


A Dream Come True

by soldierlikeme



Category: Eminem (Musician), Hip Hop - Fandom, Music - Fandom, Rap - Fandom, Rapper, The Real Slim Shady - Eminem (Song), marshall mathers - Fandom
Genre: Band, Desperate, Eminem - Freeform, F/M, Gang, Marshall Mathers - Freeform, Music, Oral Sex, Rap, Sex, Sexy, Smut, hip-hop, mature - Freeform, rappers, rough
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-12
Updated: 2019-03-12
Packaged: 2019-11-16 02:21:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18085565
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soldierlikeme/pseuds/soldierlikeme
Summary: Áine Blaine had a rough childhood, and as a teenager and young adult, Eminem, AKA the Real Slim Shady has helped her deal with the pain of her past.When the opportunity comes to be interviewed for a position to become Eminem's personal stylist, she is elated to have the opportunity at a chance to meet and work with her all time favorite artist and personal hero.





	A Dream Come True

I was sitting on the edge of my bed, eyes burning and staring blankly at the wall in front of me. I looked at the clock, groaning loudly. It was 7:00AM. I pushed myself up off the bed, stumbling towards the kitchen. I grabbed a thermos and stuck it under my Keurig, watching with blurred vision as my lifeblood began filling the cup. Holding onto the thermos with both hands in an attempt to warm my ever frigid fingers, I made my way back into my room. I set down the coffee on my dresser, slipping out of the over sized jersey I was wearing. Bye-bye comfort clothes.  
I changed into my outfit of the day; a pair of green cropped cargo pants, and one of my favourite shirts that I owned. It was a white, semi-sheer blouse. It had crocheted lace accents, ruffled sleeves, and a smocked waist that cinched perfectly. The back was intricately designed with lace and buttons, and it was just a damn look. I ran a comb through the red curls sticking out at every direction, attempting to calm the fury of my hair. I normally had to spend a good hour on my hair to make it look presentable, but I was far too tired to attempt that. I combed it back into a loose french braid. I finished the look off with applying some mascara and sliding my feet into a worn pair of yoga sandals. I grabbed my satchel off the bed, putting the cause of my exhaustion inside. Keys and coffee in hand, I left my house and hopped into my prized Mustang. It was the one and only love in my life. I bought it as a project car and had restored it to it’s current glory.  
It was a sleek, white, 1969 Mustang Boss 429 worth more than my soul.  
I smiled at the roar of the engine as it turned over, and I pulled out of my driveway.  
“Okay GPS, don’t fail me now.”  
I finished my coffee, still feeling exhausted as I continued the four and a half trip to Motor City. The closer I got to Detroit, my heart rose higher and higher, slamming louder and harder, until I could have sworn it was pulsing in my throat.  
This was my chance. This was my big moment. I could finally catch my big break.  
“In 300 meters, turn onto Malento Avenue.” The robotic voice of my phone spoke. I swallowed thickly, my stomach rolling viciously. God I was so nervous.  
“Deep breaths Áine. You’re more than qualified. You’ve got this. Deep breaths. Calm yourself.” I repeated over and over.  
Fucking hell, how was I supposed to be calm? I was about to meet Paul Rosenberg and fucking Marshall Mathers. How could one just...remain calm?  
“In 200 meters, your destination will be on the left.” Oh fuck. I was here.  
I pulled into the overly packed parking-lot, stopping at the gate. I pushed the buzzer, struggling to find air.  
“Do you have an appointment?” the voice on the other end asked. I cleared my throat.  
“I have an appointment with Mr. Rosenberg for 12:30. My name is Áine Blaine.” A brief moment of silence before the gate slid open.  
“Have a nice day Miss. Blaine.” I thanked him, and continued into the parking lot. I parked, and slipped out the car locking it behind me. My legs nearly gave out on me. I leaned against the side of my car, my hands shaking furiously. I was going to be sick.  
“Ma’am? Is everything okay?” a deep voice asked from behind me. I jumped, startled, spinning around. Oh fucking shit. Dr. Dre, was standing beside two other huge men, staring warily at me. I blanched on words.  
“Yeah, yeah no I’m-” I swallowed and gave him a thumbs up. “I’m great. Just a little nervous.” His head cocked, and he smiled a little.  
“What for?” he crossed his arms. I inhaled sharply, smiling weakly.  
“I have an appointment with Mr. Rosenberg and Eminem.” I explained to him. Dr. Dre’s eyes lit up and a wide grinned spread on his handsome face.  
“You’re Áine? Damn, you’re a lot younger than I thought you’d be.” he held out his hand. “I’m Dre, it’s nice to meet you. I saw your portfolio. You’ve got some killer looks.” he kept grinning and I felt my throat close up. Holyshitholyshitholyshitholyshitholyshitholyshit-  
“Th-thank you!” I squeaked. Dr. Dre patted my shoulder.  
“You’re going to be just fine Áine. Here, I’ll walk you in. You don’t have anything to be worried about I promise.”  
My heart nearly exploded.  
Holyshitholyshitholyshitholyshitholyshitholyshit.  
“Thank you!” I breathed, following after him.  
I walked into the building, so fucking nervous I didn’t even take the time to appreciate how awesome this moment was. We walked to the front desk and Dre flashed the receptionist a bright smile.  
“Hello Amanda. Miss. Áine Blaine is here for Paul’s 12:30.” The pretty blonde smiled brightly and nodded. She picked up her phone and punched in a couple numbers.  
“Hello Mr. Rosenberg, your 12:30 is here.” she waited a moment and smiled at me. “Okay will do Sir.” she put the phone down and straightened. “Floor five, room 118, walk right in they’re ready for you.” she smiled.  
“Thank you.” I offered a shaky smile before turning to Dr. Dre. “Thank you Mister-” he held up his hand interrupting me.  
“It’s Dre. Just Dre.” he reached over and squeezed my shoulder. “Don’t be nervous. Paul and Em are chill. Just be cool. You got this.” He winked. “I’ll be seeing you around Áine. Good luck!” he grinned. I returned the smile.  
“Thank you Dre. Have a great day.” I turned towards the hall and walked over to the elevator.  
HOLY FUCK YOU JUST MET DR. DRE.  
“Hooooooooly shit.” I whispered to myself stepping into the elevator. I hit floor 5, battling with my rolling stomach and laboured breathing. “Be cool. Be cool. Be cool.” I chanted like a mantra until the doors slid open. “Fuck.” I breathed, stepping out into the hall. I walked down the hall until I stopped at the door with 118 on the front.  
Okay. It’s now or never. Deep breaths. You got this. I lifted my trembling fist and knocked on the door.  
“Come in!” a deep voice answered. I inhaled sharply, plastered on a professional smile, and pushed the door open, stepping inside.  
I recognized Paul from the media. Bald, big beard, warm eyes and widely built. But I didn’t see Eminem.  
“Áine Blaine.” I introduced, holding out my hand. Paul smiled brightly and shook my hand firmly.  
“I’m Paul, it’s great to finally meet you. Em just stepped out to go the bathroom, he’ll be back any-” and then the door opened behind me. I turned, and felt my inner fan girl scream bloody Mary. Marshall fucking Mathers stepped inside, wearing a tight white t-shirt and baggy grey sweat pants. His signature bleached hair, gold chain around his neck, and neutral deadpan expression. Noticing me, I was surprised when a wide smile stretched across his lips.  
“Áine Blaine I assume?” he asked. I felt a shy smile creep onto my face, heat flood my cheeks.  
“Yessir. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” I offered my hand and he shook it, his wide hands making mine look like a child’s in comparison.  
“Have a seat Miss. Blaine. Can I get you anything to drink?” Paul offered. I sat down on one of the black leather couches, shaking my head.  
“I’m good thank you.” Eminem sat down across from me on the love seat, with Paul on the chair next to him.  
“So Áine. Em and I have looked through your submitted portfolio, and it was by far the best collection we’ve seen out of the other submissions. Did you bring what we asked?” he asked. I took a deep breath and pulled the portfolio from my bag, carefully handing it over to him.  
“You look a lot younger than 25.” Eminem abruptly stated. I turned to him, surprised at his sudden bluntness before laughing.  
“You have no idea how often I get that. But I assure you, I’m turning 26 in October.” I smiled. Eminem smirked, eyes trailing down the front of my body, silently taking in my appearance.  
Holy fuck, he’s checking me out. Hooooooooly shit. I felt heat instantly warm my cheeks and my core, and I swallowed thickly.  
“These are awesome!” Paul exclaimed, beaming. Eminem’s eyes lingered on mine for a moment longer before looking to some of my best work. His eyebrows lifted, another smirk tugging on those full, overly kissable lips-  
focus.  
“Damn. These are dope.” he looked up at me. “You’re hired.” he winked.  
My lips parted, my mouth opening, then closing. Opening, trying to speak, but I couldn’t. I looked to Paul, and he nodded, confirming Eminem’s words.  
“I mean, we already made our mind before you even came in today. Your style is exactly what we need to keep the audience impressed, and Slim looking fly as fuck. You’re hired.”  
I exhaled, tears prickling in my eyes at the overwhelming wave of relief and gratitude that washed over me.  
“Thank you so much. I promise you won’t regret it.” I breathed out, smiling widely.  
“Welcome to our team Áine.” Eminem grinned. He cocked his head. “Now. If you’re going to work with us, we’re going to have to get to know you. Tell us a little about yourself.” he nodded his head. I bit my lip, unsure.  
“What would you like to know?” I asked.  
“Where are you from? Where did you go to school? What are your passions.” Paul offered ideas. I took a deep breath before wringing my hands nervously.  
“Well, I was born in Scotland, but I was adopted when I was a little baby. My parents brought me to America where I became a citizen. We lived in Mellbrooks Michigan.” I looked down to the ground. “I was six years old when they died in a car crash, so I was bounced around for a long time in the system. Foster homes and such.” I rubbed my neck. “I busted my ass at school and got a full ride to Parson’s. Art and fashion was how I expressed myself and it’s been my dream my whole life to make it my career.” I looked up, laughing softly at the sombre expressions on their faces. “Relax. My past is fucked up, but I’m a happy-go-lucky son of a bitch now.” I felt myself relaxing. “I can’t express to you guys how much this opportunity means the world to me. You’re letting me experience the career of my dreams.”  
Paul leaned back, rubbing his chin.  
“You’re real as fuck. That takes balls. I like it.” he tilted his head. “So you’re not the dainty fairy princess you look like huh?” he teased. I snorted, shaking my head.  
“No sir, I assure you I’m not.” I looked over at Em. “I’m just going to get this out in the open right now. You’re like, one of my biggest inspirations of all time.” I admitted with hot cheeks. Eminem’s eyes twinkled, smiling.  
“That so?” he asked beaming.  
“I had my fair share of shit I had to deal with. Your music is fucking amazing, and you’re just the level of asshole that I aspire to be.” I admitted sheepishly. Eminem tilted his head back and let out a bark of laughter.  
“I like her Paul.” his eyes shone with amusement and he bit his lip sexily.  
I felt the heat instantly course up my thighs and tingle my center. God he was so sexy.  
Paul stood up. “I have to go for another appointment, so I’m going to leave you two to discuss details and snowball some ideas.” he held out his hand and I rose, shaking it again.  
“I’ll have Amanda give you the paperwork you need to sign. Oh, also, you’re going to have to arrange closer living facilities.” he patted my shoulder. “Welcome to the team Áine.” He walked out of the office, leaving me alone with the hottest man on the fucking planet.  
“So...” I began after a moment of silence.  
“So...” He said back with a mischievous smile.  
I grabbed at the pictures, flipping through them, unsure of what I should be doing. “Is there anything you don’t like? Let’s start with things you don’t want to be wearing.” I cleared my throat, noticing just how damn good he looked in sweat pants.  
“I ain’t gonna wear none of those gay fucking skinny jeans. And no fucking neon shit. I like my shit traditional, and simple. I don’t need to be flashing fashion like Elton, but I want to look fucking fresh. Make sense?” he explained. I jotted it all down on my phone notes, nodding my head.  
“Alright. Do you have any-” I paused as he rose from his couch and walked over to me, flopping down beside me.  
“I wanna look at the pictures again.” he shrugged. I smiled and nodded, spreading the pictures out. “I really like this look right here. I’m thinking-” he reached over, pushing up three of the pictures. “These three are perfect for an upcoming music video Dre and I are working on.”  
“Okay perfect. So with this piece,” I picked up the number that featured a layered look with an over sized white t-shirt, and camouflage long sleeve. Camouflage jogging pants and white athletic high tops to finish the look paired with signature hip-hop chains.  
“I designed it with green, but I think back, gray and white would probably work better with your aesthetic.” I pointed out.  
“My aesthetic?” he repeated, chewing on his lower lip, distracting me. \  
“Yeah. A personal aesthetic is like, the overall vibe your look and appearance gives off. It pretty much means, the way you typically dress and express your outward appearance.” I explained. He hummed, nodding.

We went over all my designs, pairing things with different upcoming events, and I got to know his personal taste pretty well. Athletic but badass. We spoke for what seemed like hours, until the loud growl of my stomach interrupted our plans for an upcoming interview next week. I blushed in embarrassment and Em laughed.  
“Do you want to go grab a bite to eat?” he offered. I flushed, smiling widely.  
“I’m sure you have other things to do than go out for food with your stylist.” I winked. He chuckled, nudging me lightly with his shoulder.  
“I have the day to myself. Come on. Let’s go get something to eat. I’m craving Chinese.”  
“Sure. One condition.” I bit my lip. He arched his brow. “We take my car.”  
“Alrighty then. I’ll let Paul know where we’re going.” he stood up and offered his hand. I took it, and followed him out. I grabbed the folder i needed from Amanda and lead Em out to my car.  
“God damn, is this a Boss 429?” he let out a low whistle.  
“You bet your ass it is.” We drove out of the lot, and I looked to Eminem.  
“So Eminem-” I began.  
“Nope. You can call me Marshall.” he interrupted. I blinked, before inhaling sharply.  
Oh damn this is insane. Marshall Mathers is in my car.  
“Turn right here.” he pointed. He lead me into the heart of Detroit and pointed to a shabby looking restaurant. I arched my brow at the rundown looking place.  
“Trust me. It’s the best damn chow you’ll eat anywhere.” he assured me. I hummed before turning off the engine.  
“Are you sure you should walk out there?” I asked him. He unwrapped a hoodie he had around his hips and shrugged it on, flipping on the hood and pulling sunglasses from the pocket.  
“Yes ma’am. Let’s go get some fuckin’ food.”  
We walked in and I hesitated. It was packed full. I looked over to Marshall and he had an irritated frown on his face.  
“Fuck this. Let’s order to go. We can eat at my place.” he hesitated and looked over at me. “I mean only if that’ cool with you. We can eat at the studio if that’s more comfortable for you.” he shrugged.  
Oh hell no. You are not letting this opportunity pass by.  
“I’m fine with eating at your place if you are.” I grinned. He winked.  
“Alrighty then. No pussying out for you. Good job.”

An hour later, we were pulling into the elaborate mansion of Marshall Mathers.  
“Is your daughter going to be here?” I asked. Marshall shook his head.  
“Nope, Kim has her for the week.” he explained, stepping out of the car. “That is a seriously sweet ride. And you fucking restored it yourself? That’s damn impressive.” he smiled.  
“Thank you. It was a lot of work.” we walked into the front doors and I exhaled. Damn, this place was nice.  
“Welcome to my humble home.” he lead me into the kitchen and set our food on the island counter. He pulled a chair out for me and I thanked him with a smile.  
We ate in silence for a while, and I all but moaned out loud.  
“It’s good right?” he grinned knowingly. I nodded my head, beyond impressed.  
“This is awesome. You were right.” We were quiet again.  
“I really do appreciate this. Seriously. This means the world to me.” I said solemnly. He pointed his fork at me.  
“Don’t thank me. I can be an asshole. you’ll see that eventually. They say never meet your heroes.”  
I shook my head.  
“Somehow, I don’t believe that.” Marshall’s thigh bumped against mine, sending a bolt of lightning up my leg.  
Good fucking god get a hold of yourself you horn dog.  
“So Áine. You seeing anybody?” he asked casually.  
“Nope. Single as they come.” I tilted my head. “Are you seeing anybody?” I blinked, realizing how rude that was. “Fuck, that was rude. Its none of my business, you like your privacy-”  
“No.” he stated.  
“No?” I repeated.  
“No I’m not seeing anybody right now. I’m singe as they come.” he winked, mimicking me. I blushed again.  
“That’s weird.” I mumbled. He laughed, his brows lifting.  
“What’s weird?” he demanded.  
“That you’re not seeing anyone.” I pointed out.  
“Why’s that?” he asked. I awkwardly rubbed my neck.  
“Well I mean you’re you. You’re like, an international heart throb.” Marshall grinned.  
“You think I’m an international heart throb?” he chuckled. I rolled my eyes.  
“Oh shut up, I’m just pointing out the obvious.” I mumbled looking down. Suddenly, warm fingers gently cupped my chin and lifted my face.  
“You’re fucking cute when you blush.” he murmured, tracing my bottom lip with my thumb. My breath hitched in my throat.  
“That so?” I breathed. His eyes were burning bright with...arousal?  
“Oh yeah. You’re crazy gorgeous.”  
His thumb parted my lips and I acted without thinking. I sucked his thumb into my mouth, running my tongue against the salt of his thumbpad. He inhaled audibly, his other hand moving to my thigh, gripping me tightly.  
“Fuck babygirl.” he whispered pulling his thumb away from my mouth and slamming his lips against mine.  
I groaned at the sudden move, arms instinctively lifting and wrapping around his neck. His hands lowered to my waist, pulling me up to stand. His mouth moved feverishly against mine, hard and rough, sexy and full of need. His hands dropped to the back of my thighs and he startled me by hoisting me up and pushing me back against the counter. I gasped when he slid his hand to the back of my hair and yanking my head back to kiss and bite at my throat. I groaned as his teeth grazed against the sensitive spot above my jugular. His hands slipped to my thighs, spreading my legs so he could step between them, getting closer. I snaked my hands into his short cropped hair and pulled his face back up to my lips.  
“Am I dreaming?” I whispered. He chuckled, pressing his forehead against mine.  
“No ma’am. You definitely ain’t dreamin’.” he rasped, biting down on my lower lip, dragging it out between his teeth.  
“Fuck.” I groaned as his hands pushed up behind the fabric of my shirt, wrapping around my bare waist.  
“God I fucking want you Áine.” He groaned against my ear, biting my ear lobe. “Tell me you want me.”  
“I’ve wanted you since I first laid eyes on you.” I replied breathlessly.  
“Good girl.” he rasped, his words sending a flick of heat straight to my clit. My hips involuntarily bucked forward, desperate to get closer.  
“Mmm somebody’s fuckin’ needy.” He growled, lifting me up and carrying me to the wall, pushing me flush against his body. I cried out feeling the hardness in his pants push firmly against where I was quickly becoming drenched.  
“You want this Áine?” he asked, grinding his bulge against the fabric of my pants. Pants that needed to come off, like yesterday.  
“Fuck yes. Please. God I want you so bad Marshall.” I moaned, my head falling back against the wall.  
“That’s a good girl.” he praised, lowering me to my feet. Before I could do anything, he spun me around, pushing me up against the wall, his cock pushing against the curve of my ass. He grabbed my arms, pinning my wrists above my head, pressing his mouth against my neck.  
“Keep your arms up.” he rumbled, letting go. I listened obediently and let his hands fall away to start unbuttoning the back of my shirt. It dropped to the floor, leaving me in a lacy white bralette. His hands dropped to my hips moving them and grinding himself against my ass. I couldn’t help but moan, unable to stop myself from sounding like a wanton whore.  
His fingers got to work unbuttoning my pants, lowering the zipper until my pants landed in a pool of fabric around my ankles. I heard him inhale sharply at the sight of my matching white lace thong.  
“Jesus fucking christ.” he groaned, grabbing a handful of my ass. My hips jutted back, leaning into his touch. He gripped my waist and turned me around, taking in my appearance. His normally bright blue eyes were dark now, his pupils blown with arousal. “You’re so fucking sexy.” he growled. I bit my lip shyly, stepping forward, gripping the front of his sweater.  
“Your turn.” I whispered turning him around and pushing him against the wall this time. He helped me tug the sweater and shirt off in one pull, exposing his deliciously toned, smooth chest. I could feel the lace of my thong clinging against the lips of my pussy, so fucking wet. I gripped the waistband of his sweatpants and pushed them down, and he kicked them off when they got to his ankles. He stood in a pair of tight boxer briefs, revealing a very hard, impressively large package. I bit my lip, sinking to my knees. He cursed, leaning back against the wall, a hand covering his mouth. I pulled my hair free from it’s braid, full well knowing he’d want to grip it tight. I peppered kisses down his treasure trail, to the waistband of his boxers. I lowered my lips and pressed a soft kiss against the clothes bulge.  
“Fuck. Quit teasing baby.” he groaned. I smiled, looking up at him through lowered lashes. He swore again, threading his fingers through my hair. I pushed his boxers down, and he kicked those off too. I watched in heavy arousal as his member bobbed up, rigid and standing tall and proud. I gripped the base of his cock, and got straight to work. I slipped him between my lips, taking him into my mouth. Marshall grunted loudly, his head falling back against the wall. I ran my tongue along the head of his cock, humming at the taste of his pre-cum.  
“Fuck yeah Áine, just like that.” he groaned, my name sounding like sex and sin on his lips. I began bobbing my head back and forth, taking him inch by inch in my throat. I groaned all the while, feeling dizzy with how good he tasted. His grip tightened in my hair and began to guide my head, quickening the pace. I relaxed my throat, letting my tongue flatten beneath the underside of his cock. His chest rose and fell, a thin layer of sweat forming on his chest, his cheeks flushed with arousal. He began rocking his hips forward until he was fucking my throat. I felt the light slap of his balls against my chin and i whimpered, eyes watering. It was so fucking good. He increased his pace until i was gagging around his girth.  
“Fuck, fuck you look so good baby. Oh fuck you look so good taking my cock like that.” his breathing quickened and i could tell he was close. “Ah fuck. Fuck. Fuck I’m gonna cum. FUCK.” He swore violently, hips stuttering. I groaned as i felt his hot seed spurting out, coating my tongue and lips. He thrust a few more times before his softening cock slipped out. I swallowed his cum, sticking out my tongue to show him and he swore, his thumb tracing the seams of my lips.  
“Come here.” he demanded. I stood up and he hoisted me up, crushing his mouth against mine. I wrapped my legs around his waist, feeling him carry me somewhere. All of a sudden, he was closing a door behind us and throwing me. I squeaked, but landed on a bed.  
We were in his room.  
He crawled into the bed after me, eyes glittering in the dark.  
“I’m going to have you screaming baby girl.” he growled. I scooted back onto the bed, grinning at him.  
“Promises promises Marshall.” I sing-songed. He chuckled, grabbing my thighs and pushing them apart.  
“Fuck, you’re soaked already.” he groaned. He reached up and unsnapped my bra, closing his lips around a beaded nipple. I gasped loudly, cursing when Marshall slipped his hand down to grind the palm of his hand against my cunt. I mewled in pleasure, rocking my hips against his touch. He pressed kisses down my chest, kissing and biting a path down until his lips were hovering over where I wanted him the most.  
He tugged my panties down, exposing my glistening pussy lips.  
“Oh shit, you smell so good.” he grunted, spreading my legs apart. Before I could even brace myself, his mouth was closing around my clit. I cried out, hips jutting up against my will. He lifted a forearm and used it to keep my hips down. His tongue darted out, circling my swollen clit. With his free hand, he slipped a finger inside.  
“Fuck!” I shouted, eyes shutting. He traced pattern over my clit repeatedly, spreading my folds open and slipping his tongue inside my entrance. I was moaning so loudly at this point, I might as well have been a pornstar.  
“Fuck, Marshall right there. Oh my god please. Fuck, don’t stop. Please.” I cried, as he switched between flicking his tongue against my clit, and sucking it into his mouth, slipping another finger inside.  
“Cum for me baby. Come on, fuckin’ cum all over my fuckin’ face.” he growled. A scream ripped from my throat as my orgasm slammed into me like a brick wall. I felt myself squirt over his fingers as wave after wave of white hot pleasure shook my body.  
“Fuck. Jesus yeah that’s right, squirt just like that baby.” he pumped his fingers hard inside of me, pushing me over the edge of another intense orgasm. I felt myself squirting again, slicking my thighs and his sheets. He straightened, gripping his rock hard cock. He reached over to his dresser.  
“No condom. I’m clean.” I panted, still quivering from my orgasms. He smirked, crawling over top of me.  
“Are you on birth control?” he asked. I nodded my head quickly. “Good. I’m gonna fill up up like you've never felt before.” he grunted, lining his cock up with my twitching entrance. I spread my legs open wider, and screamed when he drove his cock deep inside, spearing me. He groaned, thrusting his cock deep inside.  
“Fuck me. Oh god Marshall, please don’t stop.” I gasped, shivering as he leaned down, kissing me. He gripped my legs, lifting them up so they were draped over his shoulder. His cock slammed inside, deep over and over, hitting my g-spot until I could have passed out with pleasure. My pussy dripped with my juices, his cock squelching with every thrust. He increased his pace, and he bit down on my neck.  
“Right there, don’t stop fuck don’t-” another scream tore from my lips as another orgasm wracked my body.  
“Fuck, shit baby, did I make you cum again?” he panted, grinning ear to ear. I giggled, nodding my head, dazed. He chuckled and flipped me over, lifting me to my knees.  
“Let me here you scream Áine.” He whispered into my ear. He began driving his cock inside me again, pounding me like a fucking jack hammer. He gripped my hips, one hand sliding up to grip my hair and yank it back, exposing my throat. His other hand wrapped around my throat and squeezed.  
“Yeah? You fucking like that? You like me fucking you like a slut? Huh?” Marshall yelled. I whimpered, thighs trembling as he dropped his hand from my throat to rub my clit. I squealed, groaning his name over and over. He let go of my hair and slapped my ass hard. I felt myself tighten instantly and he swore. “You want me to fucking slap your ass Áine? Huh? You like it rough?” he landed another blow on my ass and i wiggled myself backwards, eager for more. “That’s right baby. Take it. Take it. Oh fuck you look so good taking my cock.” his pace began to stutter, his thrusts getting sloppier.  
“Cum for me again Áine. Cum for me.” he whispered, reaching around and rubbing my clit furiously. I  
“Marshall!” I shrieked, feeling his cock slam into my g-spot one last time, launching me into yet another insane orgasm. I felt myself squirting all over his cock, and he roared with his release, thrusting hard one last time before pushing himself balls deep, spurting thick hot ropes of cum deep inside. I groaned as he thrust a few more times, filling me up with more cum than I thought was even possible.  
“Fuck this looks amazing.” he groaned, pushing me down and rolling me over onto my back. I felt his cum drip out along with my release, in a sticky wet mess all over.  
“That’s a good girl.”


End file.
